Victoria in the Wings: (Georgian Series) Read Online Free PDF Page A

continued to write, and his letters consisted of nothing but praise for the perfections of Augusta, until at last, reading one of these letters an idea flashed into William’s head. Surely no woman could be quite as perfect as Adolphus painted Augusta. ‘He’s in love with her himself,’ cried William.
    This amused him. He laughed aloud. His laughter had become louder, his oaths more frequent since Dorothy died.
    Adolphus, a young bachelor of forty-three, was in love with a young princess whom he was wooing on behalf of his brother! And she, how did she feel? It was almost certain that she was in love with the charming, nine-years-junior prince who had discovered her perfections.
    William resembled his brother George in that he was sentimental in the extreme and enjoyed making a fine gesture. He was also fond of Adolphus. He now made the gesture.
    ‘My dear Adolphus, tell me the truth. Are you by any chance in love with the lady?’
    What could Adolphus answer but that it was not possible to be near Augusta of Hesse-Cassel without loving her?
    ‘I resign her to you,’ wrote William.
    He was rewarded by Adolphus’s gratitude. When Augusta agreed to marry him he wrote: ‘I believe that on the surface of the globe there is not a happier being than myself. She is everything in heart, mind and person that I could wish for.’
    Charming! Affecting! William took the letter to the Regent and they wept together over William’s sacrifice and Adolphus’s happiness.
    But that did not find a bride for William.
    He was determined on royalty, though. He tried the Tsar’s sister, the Duchess of Oldenburg, who after pretending to consider his proposal and even visiting England and being lavishly entertained there, decided against the match. Another humiliation! After her, the Princess Anne of Denmark.
    He must succeed. He was becoming known as the Prince who could not find a wife. It was a situation beloved of the cartoonists and naturally they made the most of it.
    He engaged the poet Southey to write poems for him to send to the Danish princess but before he could dispatch them she refused the match.
    Another chortle of glee from the press! Poor Clarence! And whenever he appeared in the cartoons – which was with distressing frequency – Dorothy Jordan was there in the background with the ten FitzClarence children clinging to her skirts.
    What had William, Duke of Clarence, to offer? Nothing but a vague possibility of becoming King of England, having two brothers to come before him. He was past fifty and no longer a Prince Charming, if he ever had been, was somewhat rough in the speech and manners which he had acquired at sea, and he was overburdened by debts. ‘Small wonder,’ said the press, ‘that when William offers the ladies decline.’ Worst of all they recalled Dorothy. He had deserted her after twenty years; she had died in poverty in France; she was buried in an unknown grave. Not a very good recommendation for Husband William, for he had been husband to Dorothy Jordan in all but name.
    There had been a distressing crop of rumours about her.
    Her eldest daughter by Richard Daly, who had been a source of trouble to Dorothy and William all her life, declared that she had seen her mother in the Strand, and that she had been so startled for some seconds that she had allowed her to pass. When she had sought to follow her, Dorothy had disappeared.
    The theatre critic, James Boaden, who had been a great friend of Dorothy, declared he saw her looking in a bookshop in Piccadilly. He was certain it was Dorothy because of the strange way she handled the eyeglass she had invariably used to aid her short sight. Like Dorothy’s daughter he had been too startled by the vision of one whom he believed to be dead to speak for a moment; and the vision lowered a thick veil over her face and hurried away.
    This gave rise to two rumours: Dorothy Jordan was not dead but had come back to London from which she had fled to avoid a